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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826732">Without Words II - Our Orbiting Paths</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereyoursoulresides/pseuds/whereyoursoulresides'>whereyoursoulresides</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Without Words [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A little bit of angst, And figuring out the logistics of a new and enduring relationship, Building a future, Civilian Life, Cohabitation, Domestic, M/M, Mostly Drama, Readjusting to a New(?) Relationship, Redemption, Romance, The saga continues!, making amends, slice of life?, slow-burn, some ptsd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:08:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereyoursoulresides/pseuds/whereyoursoulresides</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In their third life, Kunzite has finally won the heart of Zoisite's civilian reincarnation, Kozakura Izou. However, as their lives become progressively more intertwined, certain challenges begin to crop up... Between the stresses of work, adjusting to modern expectations, and old familiar faces flashing from the shadows, can Kunzite maintain a meaningful relationship with his partner successfully?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kunzite/Zoisite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Without Words [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/899115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beneath his feet, the ground trembled. With every beat of the bass drum, Izou’s heart climbed with excitement. Above the dark sea of patrons, the elegant acrobat grazed the air, her lithe limbs wrapped among silk strips. Effortlessly, she hoisted and floated to and fro with power and grace, her shadow contorting and unravelling like petals blossoming and shrouding in the wind.</p><p>Beside him, Kunihiro remained silent - a quiet, weighted presence - while Izou’s eyes swelled with awe. As her shadow darted across the moon of the spotlight, Izou’s heart stirred deeply with feelings from long ago. It rose from the mire of his blissful ignorance like honey: a comforting sense of familiarity, a deep, admiring respect, and a touch of longing for a language he felt he could once speak. The acrobat’s poetry sung to him with every curl of her wrist around the silk, every dramatic release of her fingers would either unfurl her with grace, or pitch her through the sky.</p><p>But then - suddenly - the acrobat’s fingers slipped. The silk had just come short. Amongst the horrified, stricken silence, the acrobat began her free fall.</p><p>But before she reached her demise, another strand of silk swooped in fast. It arced around her, and its commander managed to grab her arm with his. It swept her from her short end, and back up to the safe of air where she belonged. A sigh of relief rippled throughout the audience, followed by grateful, tearful cheering - perhaps the fall had been intentional. But as Izou clapped along with the others, he couldn’t be sure - for he had seen how tightly the partner had held her close. How her eyes had briefly squeezed with relief. The determination that lined her partner’s face, but couldn’t hide the brightness of fear that had been in his eyes.</p><p><em>How amazing</em>, Izou thought as everyone rose to their feet in thunderous applause. <em>To be caught in beauty and grace...</em>Even Kunihiro joined in, his claps firm and resound.</p><p>Izou’s heart stirred wistfully once more.</p><hr/><p>As the autumn breeze flitted around them, Izou wrapped himself tightly around Kunzite’s arm. His face bright from excitement and pink-cheeked from the cold, brisk air.</p><p>“Ahh, Kunihiro-sama, that was so amazing,” he was saying, still aglow. “Thank you so much for taking me.”</p><p>“Think nothing of it,” Kunzite reassured with a soft smile. The sound of their footsteps echoed peacefully as they made their way through the quiet streets. Above them, the sky seeped with the beautiful watercolors of fading twilight. “I’m glad that you enjoyed it so much.”</p><p>Izou’s bright green eyes twinkled again.</p><p>“It was an incredible birthday present.” Another squeeze around the arm, and Izou’s head leaned peacefully against Kunzite’s shoulder. “Thank you again.”</p><p>Briefly, Kunzite thought back to their very first date. How he had arrived at Izou’s door, bouquet behind his back, both excited and faintly self-conscious. It was surreal to think that this was where they were now, strolling as naturally as old lovers would, through the emptying city sidewalks and the rustling autumn leaves. It was hardly imaginable that they were even alive, but to be alive and together…</p><p>Well, Kunzite could not remember another single time when he had felt this content.</p><p>“Oh, Kunihiro-sama!” Izou stopped abruptly to point at a lone, majestic temple sitting on top of a hill of steps peering before them. It was surrounded by lush trees that were at the height of brilliancy: gold and blood ombre, with bright red leaves still fully intact. “Could we walk up there for a moment? I bet the sunset would look amazing from the top.”</p><p>Kunzite agreed, and the two of them made their way up the stone steps. It was so wonderful to be able to go with the flow like this, to follow Izou’s lead wherever his heart leapt. Although Zoisite had also pulled him along in the past, there was a certain innocence now to Izou's tugs. They were full of bliss rather than urgency, and to see them followed by true happiness filled Kunzite’s heart with a warmth he had long forgotten.</p><p>He enjoyed making Izou - Zoisite - so happy.</p><hr/><p>The moment he arrived at the top of the stairs, Izou twirled around. The air was fresh and crisp, filling his lungs with life. A leaf grazed past his hair, while the earliest stars began to twinkle in the fading sunlight.</p><p>“Hurry, Kunihiro-sama!” he called down the steps. “We’ll miss it!”</p><p>Behind his shoulder, Izou caught sight of a little wooden stall in front of the temple. A tray of fabric charms spanned its ledge, and immediately Izou was drawn to one. It was a light, spring green, with pink floral embroidery and gold stitching. He slowly drew it up, admiring the threads of the green fade into shades of ivory in the light.</p><p>“This one, please,” he told the shrine attendant.</p><p>As he handed over the money, however, Izou felt a sense of familiarity, as though someone was watching him. Looking over his shoulder, he caught sight of another shrine attendant: a young man with short, straw-blonde hair and striking blue eyes. He was dressed in white and blue, and though he kept most of his face hidden by his bangs, Izou knew he had been watching him.</p><p>“Remember to come back in a year’s time,” the shrine attendant in the stall reminded him.</p><p>His words broke Izou out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that please?”</p><p>“That particular charm will expire in about a year’s time,” the shrine attendant explained. “Please bring it back to us when it has stopped working.”</p><p>Izou’s fingers pressed into the soft surface of the charm.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said sincerely, as Kunihiro rose up to the final steps of the stairway. <em>But I don’t think I’ll have to</em>, he thought to himself, as Kunihiro joined his side. He bade the attendant farewell and turned to lean against Kunihiro again. As the two made their way to a nearby bench to admire the sunset, Izou glanced once more behind his shoulder. But the blonde-haired man was gone.</p><p>“Have you made your wish yet?” Kunihiro asked, as Izou fastened his new charm to his keyring.</p><p>“Not yet.”</p><p>“Well.” Kunihiro leaned against him slightly, nodding towards the final glimmer of the sun in the sky. “I’d say there’s not a more magical time to do it.”</p><p>And as Izou sat close to his new boyfriend, his fingers curled tight around the charm. Before the sun sank completely, Izou closed his eyes and held it close to his heart.</p><p><em>Let us stay this happy</em>, he whispered deep inside. <em>Let this all be real.</em></p><p>The sun evaporated from the horizon, and a sea of new stars glimmered in the fresh night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Innocent Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been a few months of dating now, and Kunzite thinks they're ready to take it to the next step.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, you should’ve seen it, Kunihiro-sama,” the voice was saying over the phone. “Absolutely atrocious, I had never seen anything like it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmn,” was all Kunzite said, albeit with a bit of a smile. He didn’t usually have much opinion on the matters of Izou’s latest gossip, but he was happy to hear Izou talk about anything at all. He took another bite of his dinner - plain white rice and grilled salmon. “And then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I took myself right out of that business,” Izou continued, and Kunzite could just imagine his curls frazzedly waving in exasperation.</p><p> </p><p>“It sounds like you might be out-growing that coffee shop,” was Kunzite’s observation.</p><p> </p><p>Izou huffed over the phone. “Entirely possible. The staff is completely different now. Honestly, Kunihiro-sama, these new girls, sometimes their attitude is just appal- <em> ow! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite quickly pushed some loose grains of rice past his lips. “Mn. Izou? Are you alright?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a little hiss, and then a whine.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I’m fine,” Izou answered. “Just a prick, that’s all.” The words came out mumbly as Kunzite could hear him suck on his finger. “Shoot, that smarts!”</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite shook his head fondly. “Be careful,” he chided as he began to clean up the remnants of his dinner. He had about another five minutes of his break left. “Perhaps we shouldn’t chat if you need to concentrate...”</p><p> </p><p>“Mn, oh no!” Izou insisted. The sound of the phone being adjusted to his ear cackled over the receiver. “At any rate, what time are you finishing tonight, Kunihiro-sama?” </p><p> </p><p>“Late,” Kunzite answered. He glanced at the clock. “About midnight, I think.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Izou sounded disappointed. “It’s been so long…”</p><p> </p><p>It had perhaps only been a week since they'd last seen each other in person, but to both it had felt like an eternity. Between Kunzite’s long and odd working hours at the precinct and Izou’s equally erratic shifts at the coffee shop, it was difficult to set a real date time consistently, and every window of opportunity was never wasted. Although they chatted every night (and occasionally stumbled to work from either other’s homes), it seemed that their craving for the other’s physical presence was only growing exponentially by the day.</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Kunzite said kindly. He missed Izou too.</p><p> </p><p>Izou seemed to gather up some strength. “Were you able to eat? You’ve mentioned before it’s tricky to get a meal in sometimes…”</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite threw the plastic container out into the garbage under the sink.</p><p> </p><p>“I managed to grab something. Although I must be hanging up soon, Izou…”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, okay,” Izou said in a rush. “Well, um, maybe I could drop by tomorrow, before my shift? I start late in the afternoon…”</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite smiled. “That’d be lovely. Whatever works for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Izou paused as though to say something pressing, but Kunzite chalked it up to their usual anxieties of never wanting to hang up. “Take care,” he finally said.</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite tilted his head warmly. </p><p> </p><p>“You as well. Chat soon.”</p><p> </p><p>After hanging up the phone, Kunzite finished tidying up the break room and returned to his desk. In one corner stood the small rosebush that Izou had managed to resurrect. It was Kunzite’s pride and joy in the office, a perfect reminder in lieu of their photo from the Dark Kingdom. As he settled himself amongst his papers and computers, he thought briefly of how lucky he was. It was so surreal to think that this was where they - he and Izou -  were now. </p><p> </p><p>In the past few months, Izou’s memories of his third life had rapidly solidified, and it had been fascinating to Kunzite to learn everything about Kozakura Izou. His parents - a concept that Kunzite was still struggling to come to terms with - lived in the countryside, on a small, modest farm. His mother was an artist, and his father was a photographer. Izou himself had moved to Tokyo at age fourteen to better his schooling and career opportunities. In between part time work and school, Izou loved to read, thrift, garden, and shop. His creativity energy would burst into little endeavours - sketches, doodles, collages - and was increasingly weaving into his sense of style and fashion. It wasn’t uncommon for Kunzite to hear a little yelp or hiss over the phone as he had earlier- followed by the endearing dismayed whine - from sewing accidents wherein Izou had stabbed himself at his fingertips. As Kunzite flipped through his briefing updates in his hands, he wondered which project Izou had been working on today, and if he would be seeing it soon.</p><p> </p><p>“Saitou-san.”</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite glanced up to see a younger officer leaning over the corner of his cubicle. He was holding two folders in one hand, while the other was scratching his head under his cap. Behind him, Kunzite caught a glimpse of the civilian as she left the precinct, her dark auburn hair swinging behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Kobayashi-san?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just got another statement about the nondescript white van. That makes five so far.”</p><p> </p><p>“No attacks?”</p><p> </p><p>“None, just trailing.” Kobayashi scrunched up his nose. “It’s hard to get an idea though on where to begin. No identifiable markings, and none of the license plates line up. Still seems worth investigating.”</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite’s eyes drifted to the other folder. “And the other case?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mn? Oh. Just another sighting of the cargo truck with the black star. No attacks yet this week, but it’s definitely suspicious.” He looked at Kunzite sheepishly. “I guess you’ll probably want the more exciting one, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>If it was one thing Kunzite knew very well, it was patterns. And he knew what would follow the cargo truck with the black star all too well.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take the van,” he said curtly, taking the folder.</p><p> </p><p>The younger officer grinned in excitement, holding the remaining case to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe this means I’ll get to meet a Sailor Senshi…!”</p><p> </p><p>“I think you have much more pressing concerns than that,” Kunzite said crossly. He gestured to some of the boxes stacked up at the farthest wall of the precinct. “Why don’t you start setting those up instead.”</p><p> </p><p>Flushing embarrassedly, Kobayashi straightened immediately. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes sir!”</p><p> </p><p>As the younger officer hurried off to set up the precinct’s newest surveillance testing program, Kunzite shook his head. Although he was the senior officer, occasionally Kunzite felt more like an unofficial mother hen than a leader. Quickly, he brushed the thought aside and returned to his paperwork with a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And when else had he felt like that before…? </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>It had been a long night. While his precinct also technically dealt with thefts, burglaries, and other emergencies, Kunzite found the public-facing aspect of his job far more draining. Although he usually could leave it to the younger officers, the fact remained that most of them still needed guidance and training, which Kunzite had to deliver. By the time he climbed his way up to the top floor of his low-rise apartment, Kunzite’s stomach was rumbling, and he was ready to hit the hay.</p><p> </p><p>However, upon arriving at his door, Kunzite was greeted by a little surprise that woke him right up.</p><p> </p><p>“Izou?”</p><p> </p><p>The young man had been sitting by the door, shrouded in a thick winter jacket with a backpack to his side. Seeing Kunzite, he jumped to his feet. “Kunihiro-sama, welcome home!” It was the biggest grin Kunzite had seen all day.</p><p> </p><p>Despite himself, Kunzite couldn’t help but reflect a slightly confused smile back. He gently laid a hand on the small of Izou’s back. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yes,” Izou assured, lifting what looked like a large stack of lunch boxes wrapped in a spring green cloth. “I thought you could use something heartier so late after dinner time,” he said cheerfully. “It’s just some takeout, but…”  His cheeks glowed faintly. “But...I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>As Kunzite inserted his key, he had to do his best to keep from growing into a ridiculous grin. Izou was just so sweet and thoughtful. </p><p> </p><p>“You really shouldn’t have,” Kunzite finally said, as the bolt unlocked. Izou glanced up uncertainty. </p><p> </p><p>“Was it too forward of me?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite finally let the fondness of his smile show, and gently nudged Izou into the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Not at all.” <em> I’ve missed you too. </em> “Please. Come in.”</p><p> </p><p>Splitting into a grin, Izou slipped off his shoes and leapt inside. As he got settled and began to unpack the food, Kunzite’s smile faded when he realized how late it truly was. One in the morning, and while his area was safer than Izou’s neighbourhood, the city could still be a very dangerous beast at this hour.</p><p> </p><p>“How long were you waiting for?” he asked as he slid out of his own shoes, watching Izou for any indication of polite refrain.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, not long,” Izou answered merrily, now plating the food into bowls. He gathered up the paper and plastic and swirled around to throw them into the garbage, not noticing Kunzite’s knitting brows.</p><p> </p><p>“Izou.”</p><p> </p><p>The boy paused for a moment to look up at Kunzite hesitantly. “About an hour,” he answered quickly. “But I knew you might be late so I brought a book, so it’s okay, really.” He then returned to cleaning up and setting the kettle for some tea.</p><p> </p><p>Kunzite glanced down at the key that was still in his hand, and made up his mind. As Izou began undoing the tea tin, Kunzite gently but protectively began to wrap his arms around the younger man’s waist, bringing him close to his chest. Izou was clearly delighted by the closeness and looked over his shoulder to shyly smile at Kunzite. </p><p> </p><p>“The city can be dangerous this late at night,” Kunzite murmured quietly into Izou’s soft hair. “You should be more careful…”</p><p> </p><p>Izou was obviously touched by Kunzite’s concern, and brushed it off. “I’m fine, I can take care of myself,” he insisted. He placed one of his own hands on Kunzite’s forearm. “Don’t worry.”</p><p> </p><p>Of course Kunzite couldn’t help <em> but </em> worry, he’d been worrying about Izou even before he had met him in this life.   </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you should consider a different place to live,” Kunzite suggested. “Somewhere safer.”</p><p> </p><p>Izou shrugged and began to swirl the tea leaves budding in the hot water. “Maybe once I have a little more money,” he agreed. </p><p> </p><p>It took Kunzite a few moments to consider what his next words were going to be. Eventually, he pulled one arm away from Izou and placed the key, with purpose, onto the counter in Izou’s line of sight.</p><p> </p><p>“I was thinking…” Kunzite mumbled softly, “that maybe you’d like to live with me.”</p><p> </p><p>At first, Izou blinked at the piece of metal on the counter, not entirely sure if he was understanding, or had correctly caught what Kunzite had said. Unawares, Kunzite tightened his hug marginally, hoping that his suggestion wasn’t a step too far. </p><p> </p><p>Slowly Izou turned his head around to look up at him. When Kunzite saw those big, bright and breathless eyes, he knew his fears were unfounded.</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Izou whispered, almost shyly. “You...think we’re ready for that?”</p><p> </p><p>It was clear by Izou’s exhilarated whisper that he clearly was delighted to think they were, and Kunzite was definitely certain they were. Well, he was also certain because of how well he and Zoisite had lived together in the past… So, surely they were more than ready to move in together by now.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely.” </p><p> </p><p>It was clear Izou could hardly believe this turn of events, trying his best to hide the big grin Kunzite could tell was growing on his face. Finally, after rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, Izou beamed and nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>It took nearly all of Kunzite’s willpower to not pick up Izou and swirl him around in his new home. Instead Kunzite simply broke into a smile again, followed by a short, relieved chuckle...Very quickly, the two of them were grinning and flushing together with excitement. Was this it? Were they really ready for this? It was as if both men were suppressing an armory of feeling that they were not yet ready to give words to, and giggling and laughing was the closest way they had to release the tension of mounting exhiliation that they were both trying to restrain. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll help you move in, the next time you’re free,” Kunzite said earnestly, seeing that he wasn’t alone in wanting to live together as soon as possible.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have much stuff,” Izou replied, who couldn’t stop grinning behind his hands. “Although...I don’t have much money for my share of rent...”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to worry about any of that,” Kunzite reassured immediately. “I’ll take care of everything.”</p><p> </p><p>Izou’s eyebrows stitched up together. “But...what about food?” He glanced around. “Utilities…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take care of everything,” Kunzite repeated again, firmly but gently. “I want to share my home with you. I want it to be our home. I’ll get everything ready.”</p><p> </p><p>It was clear Izou couldn’t believe his luck. He was practically dancing into Kunzite’s arms when suddenly realization flickered across his face. Kunzite caught it instantly and his smile disappeared. “What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>Izou didn’t say anything, but green eyes darted over to the bathroom. There was a moment of silence as both of them realized what Izou had just remembered... and Kunzite suddenly felt a bit awkward and unprepared.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” he insisted, although he knew the memory of it wasn’t exactly pleasant. “Everything’s  been removed, I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Hesitantly Izou glanced up at Kunzite, and it was clear how conflicted he felt about the situation. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s empty,” Kunzite insisted again. “You can fill it with your things when you move in. <em> Izou’s </em> things.”</p><p> </p><p>This seemed to make Izou feel a bit better, and the smile slowly resurfaced back up a bit. “Well it’s...not like I didn’t <em> like </em> the <em> stuff </em> ,” he mumbled a bit. “I mean, I <em> did </em> like that stuff and I still <em> do </em> like it but...it was just a bit weird seeing it all there ready for you, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“I understand.” Kunzite gently gave Izou a bit of squeeze. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you really throw it all out though?” Izou asked. “It would’ve been a waste...I suppose I wouldn’t mind using it if you still have it.”</p><p> </p><p>At that, Kunzite paused. He had gotten rid of it from the bathroom, but hadn’t actually thrown the items out…<br/><br/></p><p>Izou looked up curiously. “Kunihiro-sama?”</p><p> </p><p>“Truthfully?” Kunzite asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Truthfully,” Izou answered, but the smile on his face gave away that he was going to be okay with whatever Kunzite answered. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t look in the closet.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite himself, Izou couldn’t help but giggle, and Kunzite’s shoulders released with relief. As Izou tried to hide his laughter behind his hand, Kunzite glanced up at the clock and saw how even later it was getting. </p><p> </p><p>“Let’s eat.” He slowly undid his arms around Izou and lightly grazed Izou’s cheek as he pulled away. “I’ll undress and we’ll have supper.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” Izou took a step forward and placed his hand on Kunztie’s chest to stop him. There was a moment, and Izou’s eyes slowly trailed up from the bottom of Kunzite’s uniform, from its hem to his belt, to finally his eyes. “...Keep them on?” </p><p> </p><p>Kunzite could tell that look anywhere and, hiding a smirk, he obliged. Gathering the food from the counter, the two of them made their way over to the couch to settle in for some cozy dinner. As Izou made himself comfortable nestling in Kunzite’s arms as they flicked the television on, Kunzite couldn't help but relish this humble but incredible moment between them. </p><p> </p><p>Zoisite was finally home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Moving In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Izou moves in with Kunzite. Kunzite discovers more about Izou's civilian life, and much fluff commences.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It didn’t take long for them to arrange Izou’s move-in date. On their next complete day off together, Kunzite had ensured that the home was entirely prepared for Izou’s arrival. He had just finished cleaning up the space when a knock came at the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Izou,” Kunzite greeted, “welcome - ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was because Kunzite had half-expected to receive an array of suitcases and boxes, but the sight before him surprised him. There was simply Izou, with his full backpack slung over one shoulder. To his left, teetering on its wheels, was a lone, heavy suitcase. To his right, a single medium-sized box. Both were stuffed to the brim, and some bright fabrics were peeking out from beneath the cardboard lid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kunihiro-sama,” Izou greeted, looking a bit sheepish. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking immediate care not to embarrass the boy, Kunzite smiled and stepped back to welcome him in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Izou. Please, make yourself at home.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached forward to help with Izou’s things as the younger man took his first step in. In the moment Izou’s socks softly slid onto the hardwood floor, Kunzite knew then that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was where they both belonged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything else I can do to help you move from your apartment?” Kunzite asked, as he began to carry both items to the bedroom. “Furniture? We can take the car.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe later, thank you,” Izou answered as he finished arranging his shoes. As he followed Kunzite to the room, he kept peeking around the apartment for all the new changes. Izou was no stranger to the home, and although Kunzite had little before, somehow it seemed even more spacious and cleaner than Izou had remembered. “There are a couple of plants, maybe, but the furniture came with the apartment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite nodded. "I’ve cleared you some space in the bathroom,” he explained as they passed each section of the apartment. “Bookshelves in the living room for you, and there’s a small desk in the bedroom for your studies. We can move it anywhere else if you prefer, or you can use mine in the living room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The desk in question was actually brand new, and when they arrived into the bedroom, Izou was surprised to see the small little unit standing humbly in the corner. With little drawers and a sliding tray beneath it, it was clearly well made with the intention of a computer to be put on top, even though Izou had no such thing. In an instant he imagined how Kunzite must have spent all morning building it, his muscles swelling as he gripped and hammered, and Izou’s face flushed a bit with joy and delight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After placing the suitcase onto the edge of the bed, Kunzite turned to the closet and opened the door. It was a little cubic thing, with just enough space for one to step in and sort through the hangers on either side. Kunzite had already cleared all his things to one side, and the remaining bare rack and shelving was clean and new.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Every empty space is yours to fill,” Kunzite explained. “You can use whatever space you wish, you needn’t ask at all.” To his recollection, even Zoisite had never asked such things; over the years the spaces had simply been unspokenly filled, organically and naturally, and it had never become an issue between them. Kunzite did not see reason that this part of their dynamic should change now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou, however, was still clearly refrained from embracing such familiarity, and Kunzite vaguely wondered if it had to do with his new memories as a civilian. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kunihiro-sama,” Izou breathed, as though still in disbelief. Unconsciously, he began to tug on a wayward strand of hair. "This is all too much, really. I don’t need much space.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite reached forward to gently place his hands on Izou’s arms, silently his anxiety.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll change that,” he promised, with a bit of an invisible smile. Perhaps it was from the withdrawal from being separated from Zoisite for so long, but Kunzite now had the strongest desire to spoil him. “Why don’t you unpack, and after you’re finished, we’ll see about getting you what you need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou nodded in acceptance, and Kunzite gave him the briefest of kisses before releasing him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Have you eaten yet?” Izou shook his head. “Ok. I’m going to go make some lunch. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long for Kunzite to sort out a meal for the two of them. It was perhaps only about an hour that had passed when Kunzite had sandwiches and soup ready. Figuring that since Izou had yet to come out to ask him questions or let him know how his unpacking was going, Kunzite decided to bring the items into the bedroom, so that they could eat quickly or whilst on the job. When he arrived inside the bedroom, however, he was surprised to see the suitcase and box nearly empty, but the room was hardly changed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Izou?” Kunzite set the plates and bowls down on the desk, which now housed Izou’s empty backpack and a few of his textbooks and binders. To the side rested a single picture frame, which housed an old photograph of what must’ve been Izou’s family. Kunzite tilted his head curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the left stood a young, beautiful blue-eyed woman in a flowery cotton dress. She was small-boned with delicate features, which seemed even more porcelain by the dwarfing of her massive, bohemian sleeves. In her arms was a little boy of no more than five years old - Izou, clearly, Kunzite recognized, for he shared his mother’s round cherub face and texture of hair, even if his was a blazing ginger colour rather than her straw-like shade.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it was the man standing next to both of them that puzzled Kunzite. He too, was a somewhat petite man, with lithe joints and a straight back. However, he shared none of Izou’s distinctive traits - his eyes were deep, chestnut brown, and his hair was jet-black and coarse. He had a somewhat plain, straight face, but there was a warm crinkle to his eyes. He had one arm loosely around Izou’s mother, and the other hand rested on Izou’s forearm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kunihiro-sama?” Izou popped out from the closet and peered over his shoulder.  “Oh,” he said, when he realized what Kunzite was looking at. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite shifted to the side, uncertain how to broach the subject. “Is that your…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My mom and dad, yes,” Izou said with a little smile. His eyes turned fond as they drifted over to the photo. “Or rather, my mom and step-dad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The term caught Kunzite off-guard a little, and he looked over to Izou. The boy was still smiling at the photo distantly, but it was tinged with a little sadness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Izou?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never knew my biological dad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a split second, Kunzite’s heart nearly cracked into two, before fuelling with an incredible sense of injustice. Who was this man who had left Izou at such a young age, whose exit still remained as scars in Izou’s memories?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou shrugged then, as though to also rid himself of such useless thoughts. “It’s okay,” he said, voice brightening. “As far as I’m concerned, my step-dad’s my </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> dad.” His smile strengthened as he gazed on the photo of his family with love and pride. “We met him when I was four. I remember my mum was really struggling at the time - even though I didn’t understand why, I remember knowing that she was having a really rough time. She didn’t speak the language very well and couldn’t find consistent work. Sometimes we’d get fresh fruit and vegetables gifted at our door, but then we’d go to the supermarket and everyone would be uncomfortable around us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite could imagine Izou’s story vividly. Being a single mother was never easy, but being a single mother in a presumably foreign land must have been so much harder, for both of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He changed all that,” Izou continued, gesturing to the man in the photo. “He didn’t care what anyone else in the town thought. He helped us get adjusted.” Izou’s face brightened even more. “He loves my mom so much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though Kunzite had ever met the man, he already knew he owed his man a great deal of respect. The modest, quiet kindness in his eyes, the soft protectiveness in the way he stood next to his wife - the unconditional love and acceptance of the new son he held in the middle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never realized,” Kunzite said softly. He glanced over at Izou. “I’ve never seen this photo at your place…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou laughed a little. “I love them, but I didn’t need them...</span>
  <em>
    <span>around</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you know? While I was dating.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite briefly recalled some of the instances in which they had expressed some of their passions...Izou pulling him onto him against the wall, kissing and writhing against him with enough force to rattle anything off the neighbouring furniture -...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Abruptly Kunzite shook his head and cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou giggled a little and playfully grazed a hand along Kunzite’s. “Don’t worry, Kunihiro-sama,” he reassured, his fingers slowly wrapping around Kunzite’s palm. “My parents are cool.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite was somewhat concerned to know precisely how much Izou’s parents actually knew about their relationship. “And you’ve told them you’re living with me?” he confirmed, as Izou slowly dragged him over across the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mn, it’s nothing to worry about,” Izou answered happily, wrapping Kunzite’s arms around him like a scarf in the breeze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite couldn’t help but sigh just a little, even though it was so hard to resist Zoisite when he was like this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Izou…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou glanced up and gave Kunzite an innocent, but reluctantly understanding look. “I’m telling them this weekend,” he finally admitted, unwinding himself from Kunzite, but keeping his fingers entangled. “But you really needn’t worry, Kunihiro-sama. I’ve been on my own for a while now.” He opened the door to the closet to show Kunzite his work. “I can take care of myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing all of Izou’s clothes lined up, Kunzite could understand where the boy was coming from. Though his collection was small, it clearly showcased an evolution of Izou’s creative and resourceful spirit. There were older pieces that had been refreshed with delightful new patches, other plain, colour-blocked pieces that were emblazoned with stitching of his own design. There were standard items too, of course - a couple of dress shirts, some casual t-shirts. A couple of jeans in different colors as well as two pairs of smart trousers lay folded underneath, carefully stacked. Though the totality of his clothing was only a fraction of the loads of whites, grey, and dark-blues that Kunzite owned, it had clearly been curated with much care and diligence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That being said, even with space between the hangers, it hardly took up even a half of the space Kunzite had made for him. Izou’s nicest outfit, the same one he wore to their first date, hung first in the queue. Once again the desire to take care of Izou and spoil him surged through Kunzite, and he turned to wrap his arms around his partner’s waist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve come incredibly far,” Kunzite murmured honestly. “Truly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou’s face flushed with pride as he swayed in Kunzite’s arms. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instinctively, Kunzite lowered his forehead so that it rested on Izou’s. The boy’s eyes fluttered blissfully in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I want you to know,” Kunzite said quietly, “that you needn’t be on your own anymore.” His hands encircled Izou’s waist further, bringing him closer. “I would like to rectify that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this, Izou’s cheeks lit up in a bit of an uncertain blush again. Perhaps this would take some getting used to…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is your home now, as much as it is mine,” Kunzite continued, “and whatever you need, I insist that you let me know. Do you understand?” he repeated kindly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou’s lashes fluttered again, and he shyly broke out into a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he breathed. “If...if you’re certain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite couldn’t help but smile back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am,” he said sincerely. One hand rose to graze through Izou's hair, before cupping his cheek. “I want to make you feel comfortable. At home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou’s smile widened and he clasped his hand on Kunzite’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” he assured, lake-green eyes clear. “Truly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou’s words could not have made Kunzite any happier. Leaning down further, Kunzite brushed the edge of his nose faintly across Izou’s, before sealing his partner’s lips in a quick kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything else left to unpack?” After lunch, perhaps they could go shopping and begin to fill the house with some of Izou’s new things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just um...a couple of things.” Izou pulled away and pulled a blossom-tinted fleece blanket from his suitcase. “Sofa, or…?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite knew where this blanket had lived in Izou’s apartment and helped him unfold it. “Bed.” Between the two of them, they unraveled the blanket and set it across the bed. “And the last thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou seemed shy again all of a sudden, and it piqued Kunzite’s curiosity. Slowly, as though he wasn’t sure if Kunzite should see it, Izou slowly drew the last item from his suitcase. It was a small stuffed bear, hardly bigger than the length of Izou’s forearm. Deep caramel brown in color, sporting a little green faded vest and matching silk bow. There was even a hat on top - which Kunzite construed to a fisherman’s hat - and by the looks of its fur, it had been well-loved and well-used over the many years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just this,” Izou said, a bit embarrassedly. Kunzite didn’t recognize it, and realized that Izou must’ve hidden it whenever he had come over to visit. “It’s just a sentimental thing, really, it could go in the closet -...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite would have none of that. Reaching forward, he lightly tapped the space between the pillows. “There.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The surprise and relief on Izou’s face was obvious. “Really?” he asked, all hopeful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite couldn’t help but smile. “Really.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou looked as if he would leap over to the bed and kiss him. After he placed what was clearly his most loved possession in the space Kunzite indicated, he launched himself at Kunzite and did exactly that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Izou whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite loved the sensation of his lover’s weight against him. “There’s nothing to thank,” he assured, before returning the kiss with equal passion. They stumbled a bit backwards, flopping onto the newly made bed, their kiss deepening. As they disappeared into a flurry of clothes thrown from side to side, Kunzite leaned down to whisper in Izou’s ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Welcome home.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Resurfacing Pasts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>On a very special day, Kunzite discovers two things: a familiar face, and how creative Izou can be baking.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please note that although I did as much research as I could regarding Japanese police systems, I’m certain I’ve misunderstood or misinterpreted a lot of it. My understanding of police systems in the West is just as poor, influenced by what I’ve seen of Brooklyn 99, Law and Order, and FAKE. With that being said, please take Kunzite’s arc as a policeman with a grain of salt, as it’s mostly hodgepodge LOL!</p><p>In other news, the scene with Izou’s questionably-appropriate cookies was partially inspired by the infamous “hot dog scene” from one of the BSSM sound dramas. While the episodes there are mostly nonsensical and KunZoi are relegated to Team Rocket-style villains, it is wonderful to hear them outright flirt and banter with innuendo at each other. Kunzite having a wicked sense of humor is one of my favourite things to discover and portray. I like to think that in a different life, these two would have made each other laugh a lot.</p><p>Hope you enjoy the chapter! If so, please leave a comment to let me know what you think&lt;3!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t taken long for the two to get settled into their new life together. In the time that followed, more and more of Izou’s things had gradually appeared around Kunzite’s apartment. Nothing made Kunzite happier than to see the little indicators of Izou’s life in his - the potted plants by the window, his embellished cushions on their couch. By February, even his calendar now graced their refrigerator door, marked with various color inks and highlighters. Some days were marked for work and school, while others were highlighted for deadlines. Occasionally, there were ones circled simply in red: Izou’s appointments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although the frequency and intensity of his breakdowns had greatly diminished, Izou would still attend the occasional check-up appointment. There were occasions when Kunzite thought he could see the memories resurfacing. They rose to Izou’s face like a haunted ship rising from the ocean blackness - dark, inky, and nearly invisible unless you knew what to look for. A certain distant fixation, an ashy shadow falling over his face, or the widening of his irises as though caught in a siren’s call from far away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, these instances were often evaporated by Izou’s brightness and sparkle - sometimes, Kunzite suspected, by sheer force and will. Since Izou never mentioned the content of these appointments or any question about their past, Kunzite knew better than to broach the subject himself. He would wait until Zoisite was ready.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And even if Izou was never ready</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kunzite thought, as he gazed down at his beautifully sleeping partner next to him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that would be acceptable too. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They had made it this far without Zoisite’s memories, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He faintly brushed the bangs from Izou’s closed eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps they would never need them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His touch roused Izou from his slumber, and sleepily the boy peeked his eyes open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mn…” How lovely it was to see those long lashes flutter. “Morning…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My apologies, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Kunzite said quietly. It was very early, far earlier than Izou needed to be awake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-ssokay,” Izou slurred, stretching his neck briefly and rolling over to drape an arm across Kunzite’s stomach. “Off to work now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite couldn’t help but smile at the tangled mass glowing around Izou’s face, or the slightly dopey way Izou was gazing at him right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he chuckled softly, stroking Izou’s cheek. “I should be home in the afternoon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou scrunched up his face as though squeeze himself awake. “Okay,” he smiled, leaning into the pillow. His eyes were beginning to clear up. “I should be home too by then. I’m just trying two coffeeshops today.” Izou had been looking for work closer to home, now that they were officially living together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Best of luck,” Kunzite whispered. He kissed Izou briefly on the cheek. “Okay. I better be leaving now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Izou hummed happily, as his hand trailed down the length of Kunzite’s arm. “Stay safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite glanced back at his gorgeous partner, with his blissful smile and loving green eyes, lounging so peacefully amongst the covers. How wonderful would it be to have this moment frozen in time forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You as well.”  </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was bright, sunny and brisk during Kunzite’s shift. He was surveying speedsters in a hilly residential area with very little traffic...an area normally outside of his usual regions for patrol. However, it was in the same vicinity where the last suspicious vehicle had been spotted, and thus it had made efficient sense for Kunzite to trade his usual area for this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had just parked his motorbike to take some notes when he heard the screech of tires around the corner. There were a few shouts that followed, before a ferrari came streaking past in a flash of red. Immediately, Kunzite kicked into gear and sped off after it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When had finally managed to flag down the vehicle in question, Kunzite took his time to get his affairs lined up. Ticket book, check. Memorized the license plate? Check. He rapped his knuckle against the driver’s dark window.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your identification, please,” he said, almost monotonously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was barely above the speed limit,” came the driver’s annoyed voice as the black window scrolled down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But before the man could continue his explanations, both he and Kunzite stopped short to stare at each other: Kunzite with his snowy hair tied back and thickened in the layers of his dark blue uniform, the driver with his business casual smarts and thick, chestnut tendrils. No amount of eyewear or a policeman’s cap could ever disguise them from one another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck me,” Nephrite said.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>All throughout the rest of his shift and on his drive home, Kunzite couldn’t shake his encounter today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nephrite was alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He supposed it shouldn’t have been a surprise (he and Zoisite were alive too, after all), but the proximity in which their lives had crossed was unnerving. In all the cities of the world, and in all the districts of this city, how did Nephrite end up on the one street Kunzite happened - on a total whim - to be patrolling for?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Based on their brief encounter, it didn’t seem like much had changed, Kunzite mused darkly as he rolled his car into their underground parkade. Nephrite - or rather, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Raito Nefune</span>
  </em>
  <span> now - was just as stubborn and uncooperative as Kunzite last remembered him to be. He had taken nearly double as long as other drivers to give forth his I.D, and by then Kunzite had been nearly ready to issue him a second ticket for being so argumentative.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was like, 10km over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was at least 20km more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know it was no more than what everyone else drives around here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I should have you retake your exam.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nephrite’s eye had glinted as the corner of his lip pursed up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this how you get your kicks now, Kunzite?” he had asked. “Exercising your power over ordinary civilians?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"At least I’m not running them down,” Kunzite had replied back, tossing Nephrite his ticket with the maximum fine possible for his violation. “Good day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Kunzite undid the lock of the apartment door. It would be good to get his mind off this unsavory encounter. He hoped Izou was home already.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon stepping inside, he was greeted with a warm waft of air. Clearly, his partner was already home. The little signs of Izou’s presence warmed and soothed Kunzite’s heart as he observed them - the shoes in front of the door, his bookbag in the hallway. His keys hanging from their hook on the cabinet, with their fabric charm glistening like new in the light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Also</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kunzite sniffed the air again as he stripped off his jacket -  t</span>
  <em>
    <span>he smell of slightly burnt...cookies?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Izou?” Kunzite called amusedly, placing his things to one side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Welcome home!” came Izou’s cheerful call. “Hang on a second, it’s not ready…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a sound of a scuffle, before Izou popped out from around the corner. He was sporting a pastel, flowery apron and his hair was bundled in a dishevelled knot on top of his head. Although he had attempted to quickly scrub his face clean, a couple of powdery smudges remained across his nose and cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kunihiro-sama,” Izou greeted with a grin, trying to look casual against the wall. “How was your day?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Instead of answering him, Kunzite gave Izou a kiss instead. “Why don’t you tell me about yours first?” he suggested, leading them to the living room. From his brief glimpse of the kitchen, it looked completely upended, but Kunzite didn’t mind</span><em><span>.</span></em><span> Whatever was exciting his partner was far more interesting and important.</span> <span>“It seems like you may have news.”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Izou agreed, as they settled on the sofa together, hand in hand. He crossed his leg beneath with his straight spine, grinning suspensefully. Then:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got the job!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A smile split across Kunzite’s face. “That’s wonderful. Where is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s called the Dark B-ean Garden, about a station away.” Izou answered excitedly. “The pay is better, the hours are more flexible, and best of all, it’s both walkable and commutable! If I time it perfectly with the train, I could get there in like, 10 minutes!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite roughly knew of the coffee shop Izou was talking about. He’d seen it on his usual drive to work, but he had never had any opportunity to try it. It was well beyond the areas of his patrol, and he preferred to brew his own coffee on his days off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And best of all,” Izou continued, “think of how much more time we’ll get to spend together!” He slumped with overjoyed relief, hands over his heart. “Thank goodness for Mi-chan!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It did Kunzite’s heart good to see Izou so happy. He would have to stop by the cafe one day, and thank Izou’s friend for introducing him to the job.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When do you start?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This Saturday.” Izou’s excitement wavered slightly.  “Actually, that’s something I was...meaning to tell you... “ Izou chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment in consideration, before jumping up from the sofa. “Wait here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Izou was rummaging in the kitchen, Kunzite arched his brow quizzically. He couldn’t imagine any bad news to follow something like this. When Izou returned, he was hiding something behind his back. As he sat back on the sofa, Izou met his eyes steadily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know we haven’t been dating for long,” Izou started, “so...don’t freak out, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite had nearly pressed his lips wryly at the comment, but managed to smother it aside. Izou needed him to be kind and open right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” he said softly. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou took a deep breath. “Well,” he started slowly, “they wanted me to start as soon as possible, so that I’ll be trained in time for the 14th.” He paused briefly, waiting for Kunzite’s reaction. But when Kunzite only blinked, Izou continued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, um…” He brought out the package from behind his back, revealed to be a large, heart-shaped tin. It was beautifully ornate, with intricate swirls and filigree, and wrapped with a festive red ribbon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seeing as we won’t be able to celebrate in person on Valentine’s,” Izou finally said, “please consider this token of my affection, early!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stunned, Kunzite accepted the gift speechlessly. The tin was a light material, perhaps refurbished from a previous container. However, it was heavy with its contents, clearly made with love and affection.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Kunzite said sincerely. But immediately after he said it, it occurred to him that he was ill prepared in comparison. Would Izou have expected him to have planned this early in advance as well? What was the right thing to do in this circumstance?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully Izou seemed relieved that Kunzite had accepted his gift at all. “Open it!” he said eagerly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reassured by Izou’s energy, Kunzite undid the bow and lifted the cover. Below laid layers of hand baked biscuits, cut in various shapes. Though they were artfully decorated in icing, many were also slightly burned, vaguely lumpy, or strangely textured in places. Despite their oddities, Kunzite loved them all immediately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Izou...” Kunzite murmured, as he shifted his fingers through them carefully. There were bubbly flowers, padded hearts, and stars of every shape and configuration.  “Thank you. These are beautiful. I look forward to taking them to wor-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Abruptly, Kunzite stopped. Slowly, he lifted one particular biscuit from the stack. It could either be an awkwardly lumpy and disproportionate three-leaf clover, or a -  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my,” Izou blushed, coyly hiding his smile behind his hand. “Well, perhaps not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> one…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Kunzite instantly knew better than to buy Izou’s “innocence”, and slowly he smiled. He placed the biscuit back and shifted the tin slightly, his smile rapidly transforming into an amused smirk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or, apparently, this whole second layer…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, Kunihiro-sama, you must be seeing things!” Izou exclaimed in fake astonishment as he hid his widening grin behind his hand. “After all, I can’t control how they come out of the oven-!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this one me?” Kunzite continued innocently, picking another one from the lot. “Oh wait, I think this one is yours...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kunihiro-sama!” Izou squealed, rocking against him playfully. “What a mind you have! They’re only silly shapes…!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shall I eat them whole, you think?” Kunzite asked with dead seriousness.  “Or should I savour them </span>
  <em>
    <span>slowly…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ku-ni-hi-ro-sama!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Izou was collapsing with laughter now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was so wonderful to rile up Izou in this way, to banter and tease like they had so long ago. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only Zoisite could do something like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kunzite thought to himself with amused pride. Only Zoisite could be this brave - nay, this </span>
  <em>
    <span>ballsy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even in biscuit form - to make him laugh at delightful nonsense such as this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do swear that these originally were mistakes,” Izou was insisting now, as their laughter slowly began to wind down. “I only did what I could to salvage them, honestly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So this splotch on the top was purely for infrastructural purposes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could say it was load-bearing--</span>
  <em>
    <span>AH!</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Kunihiro-sama, I can’t stop!!” Izou fell into peals of laughter again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was incredible to see Zoisite so joyous like this, so carefree. As Kunzite watched Izou regain his composure, was reminded of the last time Zoisite had handed him a gift on an ornate tray. Although pigments had been deeper, darker and richer, the colorful icing on the cookies glittered similarly, like refracted prisms. They had not laughed like this, back in the Dark Kingdom, on that fateful day. They had not been </span>
  <em>
    <span>free</span>
  </em>
  <span> like this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Abruptly, Kunzite set the tin down, and gently took Izou’s hand. The action quieted Izou, and he lifted his gaze up to Kunzite in wonderment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Kunzite said sincerely again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou’s eyes softened. “I’m glad you like them,” he breathed quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid you’ve caught me off-guard,” Kunzite finally admitted, a bit shyly. He hadn’t even been aware that Valentine’s had been so close. “I must be honest, I haven’t prepared anything yet…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully Izou waved the notion aside happily. “Oh, please don’t worry, Kunihiro-sama. I know it’s rather early,” he said cheerily. “And plus, your reciprocation doesn’t happen on Valentine’s!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t?” To be honest, Kunzite hadn’t kept up with the times since his reawakening from the Dark Kingdom. Or perhaps Saitou Kunihiro was also equally clueless about romantic social rituals. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, silly,” Izou laughed, hiding it behind his fingers. It was moments like these that endeared Kunihiro most to Izou; this seemingly impenetrable hero of a man being so innocent in the ways of the heart. “If you choose to accept my token of affection, and wish to tell me the same, you do your thing a month from now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On March 14th?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite made a mental note to remember that date. “Alright then,” he agreed, smiling softly. “I will plan something for March 14th.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou’s eyes sparkled excitedly. “You don’t have to do much,” he said, but Kunzite imagined Izou would like something grand. “They say it should be at least the same as what you were given, but it’s really the thought that counts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make sure it is just as wonderful as how I felt today,” Kunzite promised. He brushed Izou’s cheek softly. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Izou took a moment to glow in Kunzite’s touch, before cuddling back into his side again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyways, tell me about your day!” he asked eagerly. “Did anything interesting happen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Kunzite gazed down at the tin again, Nephrite’s face swam into view. He picked up a flower-shaped cookie from the top layer, and the memory rippled away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kunzite decided to say. After all, why bother Izou with something that no longer had any relevance to their lives? It was a chance encounter, and so long as Nephrite kept his distance, they shouldn’t be worried about his presence. Kunzite would see to that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing exciting,” Kunzite said again, as he took a bite.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. She Rises from Ashes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kunzite meets and confronts someone from their dark past.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next morning, Kunzite left the apartment a bit earlier than usual. He was curious to see this new cafe, and wanted to visit as a form of celebratory support. As he was already in uniform, the visit would have to be brief - probably just long enough to pick up a set of drinks for his team. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he arrived, the coffee shop was bustling with life. Overhead, the snazzy letters of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dark B-ean Garden </span>
  </em>
  <span>flashed in neon against a slick dark backdrop. Posters of rich, deep coffee grounds and beans hung in alternating windows. Inside, dark green flora fanned from the corners of the room, creating a warm, lush, darkly tropical environment that Kunzite assumed was an homage to the coffee’s home of origin. The establishment was filled with both students and young professionals, all chatting excitedly to one another as they admired the quality of brews on the menu.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it was his turn at the counter, the waitress instantly recognized him. She was a tiny little thing, with a darling bob of dark hair and wide brown eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Officer Saitou!” she cheered with delight. “It’s been a long time!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Kunzite nodded in response. The last time he had seen her was on that fateful day nearly half a year ago, when he had given her Izou’s practice exams to pass on. “How are you, Ueda-san?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m well, thank you,” she chirped. “What can I get for you today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite placed an order for five of their most expensive coffees, as well as a box of cakes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he said, as he handed her the money. “Izou is very excited to work here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome!” she replied, punching the keys on the till with automated speed and bubbliness. “He’ll be a perfect fit here, I just know it! The assistant manager liked him immediately. In fact - oh, ...darn…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The till seemed to jut out its drawer, but had jammed. “Sorry,” she said to Kunzite apologetically. “Please wait one moment, I have to go grab our manager. It’s a new system, I must’ve typed in something wrong.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take your time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Ueda-san quickly disappeared into the backroom, Kunzite glanced around the coffee shop again. Yes, this seemed like just the right place for Izou. It was contemporary, youthful, and clearly he would be among friends and other respected peers - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to bother you, so soon after your vacation,” Ueda-san was saying sheepishly. “It was working before…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Ueda-san,” a familiar voice floated by his ear. Kunzite’s eyes snapped wide and he jerked to face the voice’s owner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take over,” the manager was saying, her voice rich but far-away. As the cash drawer discharged like a bullet, Kunzite couldn’t believe who he was seeing before him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though her hair was inky black in this life, they still floated behind her in their distinct tresses, disappearing into the darkness of her clean and pressed uniform. She was smaller now than he remembered, but still remained an impressive height, even in kitten heels. It made her amber eyes almost equally level to his, and in the moment that their eyes met, Kunzite knew she had recognized him too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beryl,” he said without thinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a blink, but Kunzite instantly caught the guarded clarity flash in her eyes. She placed her hand on the tray with Kunzite’s order, her shortened talons scraping firmly against the cardboard sleeves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pardon me,” she said in a slow but clear voice. “I didn’t catch that. Will there be anything else, </span>
  <em>
    <span>officer</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite didn’t say anything as Ueda glanced between the two of them with some confusion. In lieu of his answer, his money swiftly disappeared into the till. His change was brought back as though nothing was out of the ordinary, and then his order was pushed towards him firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have a good day,” was all Beryl said to him. Before he could protest, she had already looked past his shoulder. “Next.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite knew there was nothing he could do at this moment. Heart thundering in his ears aside, he was in complete uniform, and he obviously could not interrogate her for a crime no one was even aware of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Officer Saitou?” Ueda was calling to him. “Is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Kunzite replied abruptly, picking up his items. “Good day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without another word, Kunzite turned on his heel and left the establishment briskly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d catch her at a more appropriate time.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over the next several days, Kunzite waited for the best opportunity to catch Beryl outside her shift. It took several attempts to figure out her cadence.  Eventually, on a dusky evening, Kunzite was ready. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was sitting in his car when he noticed the woman stepping out of the door. Now was his chance. He was out of uniform and off-duty; there would be nothing to interrupt his meeting with the woman he once followed to Hell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Beryl rounded the corner, Kunzite stepped out of his car, effectively blocking her path. She halted immediately, but made no move to maneuver around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once resting dead-ahead, Beryl’s eyes finally shifted to rest on his face. They were unflinchingly blank, with the same cold aloofness of her monarchical past. Dark curls swayed slowly by her face as he waited for her response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I answer your questions, will you leave me alone?” she asked, her voice clear and straight as it always had been.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite couldn’t promise. “That’ll depend on your answers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes flickered briefly as if to nearly roll them, but she swiftly retained enough composure to jerk head towards the coffee shop again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My office then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swivelled on her high heels and led them back inside the establishment. Kunzite knew why. It was a safe but private meeting ground for both of them. Public enough that there was help should he cause any trouble, private enough for them to speak without attracting attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The colleagues all seem happy enough to see her again, if a bit puzzled. She was friendly enough with them, something Kunzite found bizarrely out of character. They disappeared quickly into the office in the back of the shop, a small, cramped room stacked with boxes and plain, uncomfortable metal chairs. A calendar hung above the mini fridge, and her desk - an ornate mahogany affair that was the only piece of furniture indicative of her past - straddled the width of the small room. It nearly bloated it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s make this quick,” she said as the door closed, gesturing to Kunzite to sit in the chair in front of the desk. “What exactly do you want from me?” As she settled in her own seat, Kunzite couldn’t help but notice that even in a bedraggled coat and plain black uniform, she still lounged in her chair with the elegance of a queen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you have your memories,” Kunzite started. “What are your intentions here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beryl arched her eyebrow, looking darkly unimpressed. “To lead a normal life, as I assume the rest of you are doing,” she replied coolly. “The life of Kurosawa Akako is very ordinary, and I intend to keep it that way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t believe it for an instant. “You haven’t contacted any of the others? Jadeite, Nephrite?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Even Tuxedo M-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beryl instantly raised her hand, and her expression swiftly turned severe. “Don’t be quick to assume my current actions based on our history, Kunzite,” she said stonily. “I will have you know I have absolutely no intentions of seeking any one of you again in this life. I have enough to focus on without troubling those who would have completely valid reasons for wanting me dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite still wasn’t buying it. His blood was slowly pumping faster and faster, thrumming in his ears as he gripped the metal arm rests tightly.  “Certain feelings are hard to ignore, even in a third life,” he challenged quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes, once steel, briefly flickered with…sadness? Bitterness?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those feelings can be overcome,” Beryl replied back softly, as a dark lock of hair fell loosely from her sharp fingers. “Even if it means cutting a part of you off to grow something new.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite’s knuckles whitened. His grip on the metal arm rests with enough strength to warp them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay away from Zoisite,” he finally demanded, without thinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unexpectedly, Beryl’s face lifted in surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t seen him,” she said, genuinely confused. “Unless-...” Beryl’s eyes glanced upon the collection of resumes that were on her desk, and one that had a little note attached to it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Kozakura Izou,” she read. “Is that what Zoisite goes by now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the look on Kunzite’s face, Beryl knew she had correctly identified him, and casted a bemused smirk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>Well, you must forgive me for not immediately recognizing his civilian name. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I-zou</span>
  </em>
  <span> I understand, but his surname should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>Saitou</span>
  </em>
  <span> if you had expected me to put two-and-two together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Kunzite remained stone-faced, Beryl’s brief attempt at humor swiftly evaporated. “ Well, if that is what you wish, Kunzite, I won't have him working here." She reached forward to pull off the post-it note and scratch his name from the schedule.  “There. Will that suffice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having watched her discard Zoisite’s employment so easily suddenly made Kunzite uncomfortable. Momentarily, Kunzite remembered how Izou had been excited to work here, how  it had been a good fit with university, how much more time he had been hoping this would gain him to share with Kunzite at home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kunzite ultimately decided. Better to have Izou be rejected by this job than for him to be triggered by another traumatic memory. He would understand, surely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That would be acceptable."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without a moment’s hesitation, Beryl swiftly ripped Izou’s resume cleanly in half, then into quarters. The echoing tear that resounded made Kunzite’s heart unexpectedly jump.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There,” she said, as she discarded the remaining pieces into the trash bin under the desk.  Her long fingers knitted over each other elegantly. "Will there be anything else?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Kunzite's eyes flashed up again, his defenses surged to full strength. His instincts were telling him to leap to his feet and tear this woman limb from limb. But for reasons he could not understand, isolate, or give voice to, his muscles remained frozen in time, straining for him to keep control. Beryl must have recognized this tension in him and the danger it hinted, for she faced her palm to him warningly, as if halting a rottweiler. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If I were you, Kunzite,” her voice dangerously slow and dark, “I’d put down any ridiculous notion of revenge you may want to extract from me. You’ll have to wait in line behind many others seeking justice by spilling my blood."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Maybe I won't wait," Kunzite finally said, but even his own words sounded hollow to him. Beryl must have heard the same, for she scoffed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If this is for Zoisite’s death, may I remind you that you all knew the terms and conditions of your servitude to the Dark Kingdom. Though it was I who delivered the final blow, your acceptance made you equally complicit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I tried to stop you,” Kunzite argued. “I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Beryl agreed. “<em>Tried</em> being the operative word. For all the power you possessed, you absolutely could have interfered. But you and I both know that you hardly </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a flash, Kunzite flew to his feet. The chair skittered back several feet, its grating echo cutting across the cement room, as his full height towered over her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mistake my loyalty for agreement!” His voice was uncharacteristically loud, booming in his ears. He had never spoken to his queen with much volume, this much anger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re the one who’s mistaken,” Beryl replied lowly over her threaded knuckles. “That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what your loyalty meant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As much as Kunzite wanted to show her the full force of his disagreement, deep down he knew he could not. His muscles began slowly to atrophy, but he remained shaking his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I believed in you," he whispered, lowly and bitterly. "I believed you would bring him back!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You have him back now, don't you?" Beryl pointed out. “Killing me in vengeance won't do anything to help secure his safety in this life."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You are a danger to him, and I won't have you disturb us," Kunzite tried to order, but his voice was so hard and tight that he feared it would snap. "I won't risk you hurting him in this life."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this, Beryl finally barked out a laugh of bitter, incredulous disbelief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Kunzite, let me make this clear to you. I'm pushing forty, single, as powerless as any of these morons underneath my roof. You think I would risk whatever scrap of peace I have left to endanger you? How foolish do you honestly think I would be?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would see you as desperate, not foolish,” Kunzite retorted lowly. “And desperation drives us all to do dangerous things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this, Beryl’s eyes narrowed. Seeing her mirth drop dead gave Kunzite a quiet sense of success, though it was short-lived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The only one who remains an immediate danger to Zoisite,” Beryl finally said coldly, “is </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kunzite." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kunzite’s heart halted fast, and he froze. His lungs were like ice, unable to swallow or pump air to the stiffness in the rest of his limbs, or to protest otherwise. Beryl understood his silence as such.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Unlike me, you’ve retained a position of considerable power," Beryl continued, almost a bit ironically. "So long as you wear that uniform, you will always put him at risk. Don't fool yourself into thinking I am his only threat, Kunzite. You share that responsibility just as much as I do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As blood returned to his veins, the silence quickly flared and withered, its embers hanging like dusty air, uncomfortable and almost suffocating. Eventually Kunzite had to turn away, lest his boiling anger overtip into actions he would later regret. As he gripped the doorknob hard, it hardly registered that it trembled vaguely in his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I believed in you,” he said again, this time hardly louder than a breath. He was tired, exhausted; whatever vengeance he had experienced was now dwindling into a twisted, burnt coil of remorse and scorn. At who, he wasn’t sure. “I wasted two lives believing in you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beryl’s tone was entirely unsympathetic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then perhaps it’s time to believe in someone else,” she replied curtly.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Most Important Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Izou discovers Kunzite's interference with his work, and the two have their first fight.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m really sorry,” the voice over the phone begged again. “I wasn’t sure if I should’ve said anything…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Izou listened, his furrowed brow deepened. It was dinner time the next day, the first window of opportunity when he and Kunihiro would be home. A pot of package-made curry was stewing quietly on the stove. The plan had been to share a nice, quaint evening together, but Mi-chan’s news quickly began to distress it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>About an hour ago, Izou had just discovered that his employment at the Dark B-ean Garden had been terminated. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Our circumstances have changed,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the assistant manager had apologetically explained. With no further information, Izou had called the one person he felt might have the details. It took some effort to convince Mi-chan to speak about it, and when she did, her voice was wrought with guilt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was Kunihiro-chan?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mi-chan sounded like she was about to cry. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>seemed</span>
  </em>
  <span> like it was him...he wasn’t wearing the uniform, but he looked a lot like him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unconsciously, Izou began to chew the bottom of his lip. Kunihiro hadn’t mentioned anything about this exchange. Nor had he mentioned even visiting the shop! And then there was this woman, this </span>
  <em>
    <span>manager...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of the doorknob wiggling snapped Izou out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he said quickly. “But thank you, Mi-chan.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He managed to hang up just as the door opened. As Kunihiro stepped inside, Izou slowly folded his arms across his chest. The man would have some </span>
  <em>
    <span>explaining </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kunihiro-sama.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before the door had even closed behind him, Kunzite could tell something was wrong. Izou was waiting for him, but the look on his face was sharp, and his arms were folded over his chest. As the hair on the back of his neck began to rise every so slightly, Kunzite had a feeling he knew what this was about.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” Kunzite asked, tucking away his duffel bag into the closet as if nothing was out of the ordinary.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izou’s expression did not change. “A friend of mine from the new coffee shop was speaking just now...”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mn.” Kunzite tried to look disinterested as he put away his coat. “And?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, Kunzite noticed the grip Izou had on his sleeve tighten marginally. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Apparently</span>
  </em>
  <span> the manager had been fine for me to work, until someone bearing your resemblance came in and spoke to her? Is this true?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Damn it. Having been so focused on speaking to Beryl, Kunzite hadn’t even considered that he could have been recognized. At this point, he realized there was no value in hiding any longer. Hopefully, he could make Izou understand. Slowly, he turned around to face the boy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Izou, I can explain... -”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izou didn’t even give him any time for that, the boy had flung his arms in disgust as he spun out of the kitchen. Kunzite followed, intent to calm him down. It was fairly rare for Zoisite to ever be angry with him - frustrated, upset, agonizingly exasperated, yes - but rarely </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Izou-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The redhead was rubbing his forehead and flustering about, as though not even sure where to begin with his anger. But at the sound of his name, he whirled back to face Kunzite.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> listen,” Izou said, uncharacteristically confrontational. “Under no circumstances are you ever allowed to just - </span>
  <em>
    <span>unilaterally</span>
  </em>
  <span> make a decision like that about my own life! Who do you think you are?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I had intended to tell you,” Kunzite tried to say, even though he had not. “But the opportunity hadn’t arisen.” This was true - it had only been a day since his talk with Beryl.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But somehow Izou could see through this white lie, and even called him out for it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“To tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>what,</span>
  </em>
  <span> exactly?” Izou demanded. “Your concerns as to my employment there </span>
  <em>
    <span>- whatever the hell they may be, because you haven’t actually told me yet! -</span>
  </em>
  <span>  so I could come to that conclusion myself? Or the fact that you’ve already </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone ahead</span>
  </em>
  <span> and made the decision for me without my consultation?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Both,” Kunzite answered without thinking. Immediately he knew this had been the poorest choice of reply.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izou’s eyes pinched and bloomed in incredulity multiple times. “I can’t believe this! Do you even hear yourself, Kunihiro-sama?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you would give me a chance to speak, you would understand!” Kunzite finally rose with a boom. Normally he would have been able to keep a tighter grip on his patience, but Zoisite </span>
  <em>
    <span>yelling</span>
  </em>
  <span> at him was a foreign and unprecedented experience. Every word rained on him like a round of fire across a warfield, and unthinkingly, the militaristic thunder of his voice rose through his lungs like an old tidal wave. “I did what was necessary, and everything I do is for the betterment of our life, Izou. You would do well to remember that!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare use that tone of voice with me!” Izou snapped back dangerously. “I don’t know how you were expecting us to function in this life, but under no circumstances do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>just make executive decisions without discussing it with your romantic partner! You had absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>no right </span>
  </em>
  <span>to interfere, especially without talking to me first!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As your </span>
  <em>
    <span>partner</span>
  </em>
  <span> I had to do what was necessary to protect you!” Kunzite bellowed back. "My actions were entirely within my bounds, and I would expect you to trust and understand my intentions with your life better than this!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You lost all right to my life when you let me </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Izou shouted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As though the words had not been his own, Izou’s hands flew to his face and clapped hard over his mouth. But the damage had already been done. Kunihiro’s face was dumbfounded and crinkled, as though Izou had slapped him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Kunihiro-sama," Izou breathed, and his voice was small behind his hands. “I'm so sorry..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In an instant, Kunzite’s breath swept from him like a dam broken open. His blood flooded with a jettison of emotions too quick for him to recognize as they churned through his tightened vessels. Disgust, fear, anger, rage, pain - all spinning through him and cutting him open like rocks whipping against the banks.  Unable to speak, Kunzite just shook his head, and turned to make his way to the door. to grab the knob of the door once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, Kunihiro-sama, please!” Izou’s rapid footsteps followed behind him, but Kunzite couldn’t bear to have him near. Grabbing the knob, he swung it open and twisted the door behind him, like a shield.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I need some space,” was all Kunzite could say. His voice was thick and rough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Kunihiro-sama, please don’t go-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Abruptly, Kunzite shut the door behind him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been hours since Kunihiro-sama had left the apartment. The silence in the home was both expansive and stifling, and no corner was safe from its permeating discomfort. Though he was sitting on his favourite part of the sofa, Izou’s legs were crossed and his back was straight - it was like sitting on a bed of spikes, and the only way to distract himself was his constant chewing. His bottom lip rolled regularly between his teeth, as well as his thumbnails. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After what seemed like ages, Izou heard the doorknob rattle once more. As soon as the door opened, Izou was on his feet and flying towards it. He only stopped short when he saw that Kunzite hadn’t yet turned to face him, still busying himself with slowly undoing his jacket.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome home,” Izou said weakly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hearing Izou’s little voice made Kunzite’s eyes squeeze, and he let out a deep sigh. His reprieve in the office had given him enough time to settle his adrenaline, but ache in his heart remained heavy, lodged deep under his rib. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he said, slowly turning around. Izou’s eyes were big and raw, and Kunzite couldn’t help but notice how both strands of curls had been coiled and uncoiled so often that they were now frayed against his cheeks. Unable to remain mad at Izou any longer, especially like this, Kunzite slowly parted his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In a flash, Izou had rushed into his embrace and buried his face in Kunzite’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh Kunihiro-sama,” Izou whispered in relief, “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunzite could only sigh, wrapping his arms tightly around the bundle below him. Of course he did, and of course he would, but if only everything else could be so simple. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Think nothing of it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Izou shook his head, pulling up slightly from under Kunzite’s chin. “It was unfair and cruel of me to say what I did. I’m so sorry for what I said.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunzite could only shake his head, slowly resting his chin back on Izou’s head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You were right to say it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought, but the words dried up in his throat like dead leaves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izou glanced up uncertainly. “Could we talk about this?” he whispered softly. “Please?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, Kunzite nodded. Their arms unwinded from one another, but their fingers never broke free. Hands still loosely locked, Izou began to lead them into the living room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they approached the sofa, however, Kunzite mildly panicked. With swift command, he plucked Izou up into his arms instead, and directed them both down in his single armchair. While Izou was confused, Kunzite made sure to wrap his arms tightly around the Izou’s waist, and buried his face in his partner’s back. If they must have this conversation, Kunzite would prefer to do it with his face unseen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, Izou did not protest. Instead, he placed his own hands on Kunzite’s arms, squeezing them reassuringly. Leaning into the curve of Kunzite’s bearlike embrace, Izou hesitantly looked over his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he finally said again in a small whisper. “I really am.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunzite knew Izou hadn’t meant to hurt him, and that the boy’s apology was genuine.  But it alone couldn’t soothe the leaking flesh wound that remained pulsing deep within him. Only time could reseal the crack in his scales.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” was all Kunzite could say quietly. “I forgive you.” This much was true. Izou had been innocent in his accusation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But his words did not seem to lift Izou’s anxiety. His fingernails dug marginally into the cotton of Kunziite’s sleeves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I swear I never meant to say something like that,” he whispered, biting his lower lip. “That wasn’t me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunzite took a deep breath to steady himself, and held onto Izou tighter. His heartbeat thumped steadily into Izou’s back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was,” Kunzite finally said quietly, “but you were not wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izou’s eyebrows pinched together, and he tried to twist around to face Kunzite once more. But Kunzite’s grip was steadfast, and Izou just had to percolate on this new information in his current position. After some thought, Izou slowly came to understand what had happened.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a me from another time,” he concluded softly. Behind him, he felt Kunzite nod.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” was all Kunzite said. Silence followed after that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izou tried to fumble with that particular memory in a way that wouldn’t lead him down a rabbit hole. That was something they had mentioned in his clinical sessions - how to only open certain boxes in the mind at a time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think we should talk about it?” Izou whispered softly, as if the words were a terrible, forbidden incantation. “The memory, I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunzite readjusted himself so that he was no longer smothering his face into the small of Izou’s back. Instead, he rested his forehead between the boy’s shoulder planes, which fell his bangs forward and shielded his eyes from Izou’s view.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you remember much of it?” Kunzite finally asked. His voice was dark and deathly, like gravel. Izou ran his lip under his teeth again unconsciously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A little,” he admitted, his voice still hushed. “Not much…It’s mostly been feelings.” Feelings that leached into his blood like a root in a midnight soil. This flash had been as instant as it had been insidious, whipping from beneath the undergrowth and baring its flesh-eating teeth. But Izou was sure that if he were to delve into the box, the memory would surely consume him in its softly familiar petals.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunzite was quiet for a few moments, slowly considering this piece of information. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you spoken about it in your appointments?” Kunzite eventually asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izou thought about it, before shaking his head. This one had been a new sensation; quick and fiery like salt on a branded wound. He couldn’t recall feeling such a white-hot flash of anger and indignation before meeting Kunihiro.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was another sigh, and Izou held on even tighter, a little scared as to what conclusions Kunihiro would draw from this. There was some silence before Kunihiro finally spoke again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You said I let you die,” he finally murmured. “Do you remember who killed you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At the thought, Izou’s lungs shrank and his chest tightened. Already he could feel that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span> - a cavernous room, cold to the bone. A woman’s voice, ringing crystal-clear like ice but tearing like a serrated blade. Then his own voice, pleading. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry, please forgive me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> his voice echoed in the empty chamber. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just one more chance…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Izou.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As quickly as the sensation had come, Kunihiro saying his name shattered it - for a second, Izou felt displaced, uncertain as to what time or place he was in. Kunzite’s voice was a familiar octave, but the name </span>
  <em>
    <span>Izou </span>
  </em>
  <span>was crisp and fresh and new, like fresh laundry.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think we should talk about this anymore,” Kunihiro said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As fast as he could, Izou twisted around to face Kunihiro. This time was marginally more successful, finally able to see his partner’s face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But we have to,” Izou said helplessly. “How else are we going to move on from this…?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re going to have to figure that out by ourselves,” Kunzite replied without thinking, still not meeting Izou’s gaze. His face was solemn, as though in prayer or contrition, Izou couldn’t tell. “It’s not my place to tell you how to remember.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Strangely, these words penetrated deeply within Izou’s heart, and for a moment his chest warmed with unexpected appreciation and respect. But it still didn’t solve the matter at hand - that Kunihiro was still clearly upset, and that this was a knot in their life that needed undoing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I remember,” Izou finally whispered. He didn’t dare say her name, though. If he thought of her, she might rise again between them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunzite took another deep breath, before readjusting his grip on Izou so that it was looser. So that he could feel the warm planes of the boy’s waist, back and thighs beneath the curve of his hand. So he could remind himself that Zoisite was alive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She was the manager at the coffee shop.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a very long pause before Izou finally understood what Kunzite was saying. Eventually when Izou’s expression finally slipped entirely from his face, his voice could only utter a single sound.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Oh’ indeed. Kunzite simply shook his head, as though ridding himself of the distastefulness that hung in the air. Eventually, Izou readjusted himself so that he was now facing Kunzite properly, straddling across his lap. His hands found themselves gripping the front of Kunihiro’s shirt loosely, like a silk lifeline.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you worried I’d...relapse?” Izou murmured quietly, thinking back to that time they had walked in the garden together after a study session. Izou blinked again, suddenly remembering that night in a new light. Had Kunihiro known about the garden and what it meant? Had they taken that path on purpose?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunihiro’s hand was now slowly grazing along Izou’s hip and upper thigh, warm but slightly robotic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just afraid of how you’d be hurt,” was all Kunzite said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This new piece of information certainly complicated matters, Izou thought vaguely, as neither man would look the other in the eye. Instead, they partook in each other’s touches, as though reminding themselves that they were still there; they were still wanted. They were still together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izou was still trying to figure out how he felt about Kunihiro’s interference, when his partner finally grazed his cheek. It was enough to make Izou raise his eyes and finally meet his lover’s. They were a deep grey-blue, edged with regret but solemn in sincerity.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sorry for the interference,” Kunzite said. His thumb lightly grazed Izou’s cheekbone, and Izou felt himself melt into the touch. “You are right - … I should have spoken to you first.”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izou shook his head to indicate that he was no longer angry with Kunihiro. “It’s okay, I understand,” he said softly. “You were just - ...looking out for me.” He took a deep breath, bringing up a hand to cup Kunihiro’s. “Just...keep me in the loop in the future, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kunzite nodded, but wasn’t entirely sure if he could. How much was necessary to tell? “I’ll try,” was all he could promise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But the unspoken matter still hung in the air between them; the memory that neither was ready to address. Kunzite wasn’t sure if it would ever be resolved. If anything, the memory was a ticking time bomb...for if Izou were to remember it in its clarity, he might feel that his rage had been truly warranted. That the accusation had the weight of truth behind it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And when that day should come</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kunzite thought hollowly to himself - </span>
  <em>
    <span>it was entirely possible Izou might choose to leave.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kunihiro-sama?” Izou’s voice filtered into his thoughts. He blinked and saw the boy’s face in his, wide and clear-eyed and beautiful. Izou’s bangs hung above the ridge of his eyes like the curls of grapevines, shrouding him in beauty and love that was truly innocent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not mad anymore,” Izou whispered softly. “We’re okay now, right? I forgive you.” Here, his eyebrows knitted again ever so briefly, betraying the hitch in his heart. “Do you forgive me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unable to resist Izou like this, Kunzite gave him the smallest of smiles to reassure him. After Izou’s face lit up in relief, Kunzite wrapped his arms around the boy again, this time bringing him into a crushing hug. In response, Izou’s arms flung tightly around him as well, like a koala holding on for dear life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Kunzite whispered. “Always.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he slowly delved his fingers into his lover’s hair, feeling the sensation of his heartbeat against his, Kunzite ruminated on the word. Forgiveness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had let Zoisite die once, this much was true. And no matter how much Izou forgave him for his current human mistakes,  Kunzite knew that his worst sin had yet to be washed away, if it ever could. Come high or low tide, Kunzite vowed that he would not fall pretty to the comfort and security of Izou’s love. He would ensure Izou’s safety above all else. It was the only way he could truly redeem himself, for them to truly move on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And if it was possible that Izou’s love would one day be forfeit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kunzite thought,</span>
  <em>
    <span> it was all the more important that Izou’s life was preserved.</span>
  </em>
  <span> No matter what else, Kunzite vowed that he would never let Zoisite’s life slip away again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t going to let that happen again. Not in this life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not when Izou was the most important thing.</span>
</p>
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